


Dark Beyond Black

by bug_wish89



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Cannibalism, Eventual Happy Ending, Fighter Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapping, M/M, Sassy Peter, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bug_wish89/pseuds/bug_wish89
Summary: After Boyd and Erica die Stiles has had enough. He traps the alpha pack in the preserve and kills two of them. The problem is he wasn't expecting Deucalion to stab him in the chest with his sharp cane and bite him. When he wakes up days later he's trapped in a basement and Deucalion's plans for him have only just begun. When the sheriff and the pack finally find him, will they recognize the teenager they once knew?Work in progress, please subscribe*Newly edited 05/23/19





	1. When things go wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://postimages.org/)   
>    
>  [best free image hosting](https://postimages.org/)   
> 

Stiles is fed up after Boyd and Erica die and spends days memorizing the Preserve and setting mountain ash soaked rope traps. He manages to trap all the alphas in the woods at once. He shoots Kali and Ennis in the head first because they are the most unhinged. He stole the gun and wolfbane bullets from Chris Argent, little did the hunter know. 

But Stiles makes a mistake. He's standing too close to Deucalion's trap when he goes to shoot the Alpha of Alphas. He's not expecting the Demon Wolf to stab him clear through the chest with the end of his sharpened walking stick and yank him forward into the circle. Stiles skips fear entirely and goes straight to rage as he pulls the alpha closer by his coat collar, snarling bloodily in the alpha's face. Duec pauses and finds that he admires how much more of a threat this human boy is compared to the disappointingly easy challenge Beacon Hills has turned out to be. So he bites the teenager on the shoulder, dropping him to the ground with the cane still sticking out of his chest. The boy growls up at him through the blood gurgling out of his mouth until his heart finally stops.

[](https://postimages.org/)

Two days later, Stiles comes back to life violently, coughing and hacking congealed blood out of his lungs. When he catches his breath and looks around, he notices there's a metal collar around his neck attached to a chain running through steel bars at the bottom of stairs leading up to a crank mechanism. There are jail-like bars along the side of the stairs as well except for a metal archway at the bottom, effectively imprisoning Stiles separately from the rest of the house. There are no windows and the floor and walls are cement so it looks like he's trapped in a basement. He suddenly remembers what happened then screams and rages that he's going to kill them, he's going to rip them all apart. After awhile he calms down and practices shifting, it's not difficult, he's already angry. His claws are suspiciously longer, sharper and more curved than he thinks a wolf's should be. Then he touches the new ridges on his shifted face and they're not as prominant as he expects. Then he sees that his muscles look and feel swollen in size compared to normal, just like frickin spiderman. 

A day passes before the upstairs door opens and Duecalion walks through it. He cranks a handle and the chain retracts until Stiles is held against the frame at the very bottom of the stairway. After chaining the boy's wrists to the sides, Duec randomly scratches gouges into him, taking his sweet time, while explaining that Stiles has aroused his curiousity. The Demon Wolf goes on about a vision of Beacon Hill's most underestimated human becoming the greatest of its monsters. How he'll use Stiles' savagery that he witnessed when the teenager ruthlessly killed his two best fighters and push at it until Stiles will be as great as both of his victims put together. Deucalion says that he's going to demonstrate the brutality that will inspire Stiles' transformation and bring out his true potential. 

Upstairs the twin alphas sit in the kitchen and listen as Stiles' mouth is wedged open with something before he starts screaming constantly, getting more highpitched and desperate until they finally hear Duec strangle Stiles to death, knowing full well that Stiles will recover from it. The twins look shaken when Duecalion comes through the door to the basement, wiping blood off his hands with a handkerchief and informs them that Stiles is not a werewolf. He's something with a muskier scent and a different shift but the alpha doesn't know what it is yet. The twins never do get used to how much Stiles screams during Deuc's future 'visits' to the teenager, as he calls them. Stiles spends a lot of the inbetween time crying and raging over the cruelty of his situation. He was prepared to die for his friends when he went to kill the alpha pack but not this. This is so much worse than anything's ever been before. 

Not long after that Deucalion shoves a male feral omega down the stairs, announcing that Stiles will either kill the brute or be killed by the Demon Wolf himself. Stiles gets the feeling there won't be any need for that last bit as the omega attacks him. Unfortunately Stiles is slow to fight back and he's soon pinned to the floor. He holds back snapping jaws while the omega's claws tear into his stomach. Stiles' anger kicks in then and he lodges his forearm in the omega's mouth and shoves against it as hard as he can. There's a sharp crack as the omega's neck breaks and the body goes limp above him. Stiles rolls over on top of the dead wolf and snaps. He starts screaming and tears at the omega with his claws until everything is red and wet. Then he throws himself back against the wall, focuses long enough to push his guts back inside himself before hyperventilating until he passes out. 

Every day after that Deucalion visits Stiles in the morning. He makes sure the twins are nearby so they can hear the teenager screaming before Deucalion comes back up more frustrated than before. Then the next few hours are spent getting another omega to throw down into the basement. Stiles is forced to kill every one of them as they all attack him first. After things go quiet, one of the twins walk downstairs and throw a bottle of water and a loaf of bread towards him then leave again. But noone ever removes the bodies, the floor quickly becoming covered with a mess of corpses. After Stiles has killed a dozen omegas, Deuc changes tactics and starts sending angry betas downstairs instead. It becomes easier for Stiles to kill the attacking werewolves without being injured since he is used to fighting while standing atop slippery bodies and they aren't. But Stiles makes sure when the fight seems in his favor that he waits a little longer before killing them. He wants the alphas to underestimate him like they used to, so even though he's been becoming stronger after each kill he makes sure to hide it. Stiles figures it has something to do with how the alphas would get stronger by killing their and other's packs. He hears Duecalion rage about upstairs from not knowing what type of were-creature Stiles is and it grants him a tiny bit of satisfaction, even if the alpha's ire is fresh each time he visits downstairs. 

Stiles has no choice but to lay down and sit in the bloody gore, despairing about how long he's been there. He knows his pack is looking for him but can't figure out why they haven't found him yet, there are werewolves disappearing left and right in the area. He feels so alien now compared to how he used to be before he decided to take the alphas out on his own. It's too painful to think of Scott and his dad seeing him like this so he tries to shut those thoughts out. The only person his thoughts can safely turn to in this gruesome time is Peter. The wolf that survived being burned alive twice yet still somehow came back more sane after his own murder. Stiles doesn't know how the older man remains smirking despite having the memory of his and his family's deaths still screaming around inside his head. If Peter's strong enough for that, Stiles can try to be the same, to survive at all costs even if you have to become a monster to do it. Peter would do absolutely anything to survive and Stiles must be prepared to do so as well. 

Stiles' inner animal doesn't mind the smell of dead bodies as much as the alphas seem to. It's a good thing because he quickly became covered in layers of blood and gore that he quickly found was pointless trying to rub off his skin when he just wakes up covered in it again. He's hungry all the time and it just makes him angrier, his animal whispering that he could tear the alpha's hearts out and eat them. 

After Stiles has killed what he thinks is a dozen betas, Duecalion sends an unfamiliar alpha into the basement. The woman takes one whiff of him before snarling and rushing forward. Stiles blocks her clawed swipes at him with minimum damage and she seems shocked when he lands a hit by punching her in the face followed by a gash into the muscles of her arm. Stiles is surprised by how easy he's beating the alpha. The wounds she inflicts are painful and deep but he's learned to sacrifice injuries in order to gain an opening for a sure attack of his own. Finally she charges at him so he shoves both of his clawed hands at her face. As he feels her claws scrape along his spine he bites forward and tears her throat out with his teeth. The sudden influx of power hits him like a brick wall and it feels like it's frying his mind. He tears at his face and hair as he ROARS, his body shifting into a huge furred animal before he loses consciousness. 

After that Deucalion's visits stop. So does the food but more wild alphas and water bottles are tossed down the stairs. Stiles spends hours screaming at what's left of the alpha pack to just kill him already or he's going to get out of here and kill them all, hes going to eat them fucking whole! Stiles doesn't want to starve and cross the one line he's terrified is starting to loom closer. He holds out until after the fifteenth and final alpha. Then the water stops, everything stops and there's no longer any noise from upstairs. Stiles realizes soon after that he's been left to die in the dark with forty werewolf corpses layered unevenly in the small room, piles of bodies stacked high here and there. 

He spends most of his time after that in his fully shifted form and finally gives in to his hunger, its too late for regular morals anymore. He finally allows himself to embrace his instincts without the burden of guilt, gorging himself on the fresher alpha's bodies, surprised by the satisfaction and calm it brings both himself and his inner creature. He doesn't know what kind of were-animal he is, but he's bigger than two men and he has a long tail. When he sees his human skin its always stained thick in red so he avoids it entirely now. Stiles also finds that he continues to get stronger since he's been able to eat again. 

Stiles' mind broke early on from the cruel savageness Deucalion inflicted on him but now it loses its sharpness altogether and his thoughts muddle until only his most lethal instincts and his hate guide him. There were never any lights in the basement, he's only existed in darkness since he was turned. It never truly bothered him, in fact it seemed to comfort his animal and he has excellent night vision so he decides to embrace it and stop letting his human thoughts hurt him anymore.


	2. Careful what you wish for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack finds Stiles, but he's far worse than they feared.
> 
>  [](https://postimages.org/)  
> [](https://treetop100babynames.com/exotic-baby-names-boys)  
> [](http://img4.imagetitan.com/img.php?image=20_f39lqr.jpg)  
> 

Two cars pull up to the large cabin secluded in the woods and the sheriff and the Beacon Hills pack pile out. There are no heartbeats inside the building so Isaac, Allison and Peter wait outside. As they enter, the wolves confirm that it's the right place, the alpha pack were definitely here. Ever since they found Kali and Ennis' bodies in the woods with a single shot in each of their foreheads next to a worryingly large puddle of Stiles' blood they've been trying to track down the teenager and surviving alphas. Then Chris got word two months later about the twins being spotted a few states over. The pack caught up to them and surprisingly the twins were pretty quick to offer up the address of the cabin. Scott and Melissa have tried to help the sheriff come to terms with Stiles' probable death but the man hasn't let them keep him home, he says if they find Stiles or god forbid his body, he should be there when it happens.

Scott and Derek gravitate towards a door at the back of the kitchen, covering their noses as they get closer. "Over here" the young alpha says while reaching for the knob but is knocked back by a barrier of mountain ash. Chris breaks the line and when the door opens everyone(especially the werewolves) flinch back at the smell of fetid decay so strong they can feel it entering their pores and everyone vomits or at least dry heaves. Scott takes a brave sniff and flinches again as he says, horrified "They're all dead werewolves!" "Can you smell Stiles?" The sheriff asks weakly. He recognizes the scent of dead body but has never experienced it this strongly. "I can't tell. But there's another scent, acidic and it burns my eyes." Then Derek says its musky, kind of like cat piss. Scott and Derek back up at the same time that the humans feel a subsonic rumble in their chests. "There's something down there! Something really big!" Scott shouts as his face pales. 

The Sheriff backs Chris up as they slowly descend down the stairs, the scent is too strong for the werewolves who are sufficiently freaked out by the smell of rancid wolf corpses. Chris signals to stop as they near the bottom of the stairs, dead bodies creating a makeshift floor. He taps the metal arch at the bottom of the stairs with his gun and says "No further." They peer through the metal bars walling off the side of the stairs and gag as they see corpses half way up the wall, bodies in pieces and torsos ripped open, raw gory skeletons with only their hair in tact. "Stiles?" The sheriff calls out desperately as he steps around the hunter to get a better look by peering around the arch into the hidden corners. They hear and feel another low growl right next to them and turn sharply to look through the bars where it came from. There are two reflective yellow eyes staring back at them from only a few feet away and Chris quickly pushes the sheriff behind him. 

The reflected eyes rise higher and the men see a shadow shrink in size before a red gory face peers back at them. "Stiles?" The sheriff asks shakily and the eyes blink and lose their yellow reflection. The figure comes closer, cocking its head like a dog as Chris raises his gun at it. He sees red eyes flash and a glint off sharp teeth as it grins and keeps coming closer until it's within reach of the bars, eerily calm and quiet as it watches them. "Stiles?!" It's predatory gaze moves to the sheriff and it sniffs at them but there's no hint of recognition in his eyes. A sound that isn't quite a growl leaves it and it tries to reach its arm through the bars but it can't so it hisses and steps back a few yards. 

Chris lowers his gun, confident the bars will keep the creature back and turns to look at the sheriff, who has gone pale. He watches as the sheriff clears his throat and visibly pulls himself back together before leaning forward a little. The figure's eyes follow his movements and the sheriff starts talking "Stiles, if that's you then you have to try and recognize who I am. Okay? Remember that I'm your father, the sheriff, and we live in Beacon Hills. Our friends are a pack of werewolves." The creature growls ominously at the last word and hisses at them again. "Stiles, try and remember you have a father who loves you more than anything. Just try, please!" Chris hears the sheriff's voice crack and feels the familiar drop in his stomach whenever a were-creature loses control and tries to kill someone they love and he has to put it down. "Sheriff," he starts but the man isn't paying attention, the fool puts his hands up on the bars and leans closer. And that's when the creature moves. Across the room and pulling the sheriff through the bars before the hunter can raise his gun all the way. The sheriff freezes with his arms raised saying "Wait! Chris, wait! Stiles, it's okay!" The creature has his mouth pressed against the sheriff's shoulder, staring at the hunter with glowing red eyes but doesn't seem like he's about to rip the man's neck open yet so Chris pauses. It's quiet as the blood crusted figure sniffs at then rubs its messy face over the sheriff's shoulder and exposed neck before some of its tension loosens slightly and its eyes stop glowing. 

Scott and Derek hear the creature moving from upstairs and they both move closer to the basement door to see. Suddenly they hear a roar and Chris yelling at them to wait outside. They do so as they hear the two human men talking to someone, trying to convince him to come out, to stay calm and to trust they won't hurt him. After quite a while they hear metal being broken after a warning from Chris and then wait as they listen to three figures slowly come up the stairs. They smell only bloody gore and the strange scent from the figure plastered to the sheriff's side and everyone stands straighter when the three get close to the door and the figure flinches away from the sunlight. 

The sheriff is whispering soothingly to him but when the figure's head tilts up suddenly the wolves all stand straighter and their hackles rise as they recognize Stiles' face as his eyes sweep over them, glowing a bright red. Stiles shoves the sheriff behind him and growls at them so deeply they feel goosebumps rise, and an eerie silence descends as noone dares move. Scott, the idiot, says Stiles' name and flinches a step back when his eyes settle on the true alpha. Quicker than Derek can see, the sheriff is shoved into Chris knocking them both to the ground and a red blur is suddenly slamming into Scott. Before Derek can process what's happening, he hears his alpha making pained noises so he runs toward the gory figure currently tearing Scott's stomach open with both hands. Derek grabs Stiles to flip him off of Scott but his knee buckles painfully as Stiles punches it out of joint. Before he can recover he hears a sickeningly loud popping sound accompanied by Scott's agonized scream. Isaac runs over and they both launch themselves at the teenager attacking their wounded alpha but are too slow as claws rip through them, gouging deep under Isaac's armpit before Derek feels both his legs swept out from under him, claws ripping through his ribs while he's still in the air then he hears them crunch as he hits the ground, unable to breath as the broken bones pierce his lungs. 

He vaguely hears the sheriff and Chris shouting and the 'thwip' sound of Allison firing bolts from her crossbow accompanied by the sound of the bolts hitting dirt. She's knocked back into the car and slumps over, but there's no time to be relieved at the lack of blood pouring out of her before a gun is fired. Derek's head whips over and sees Chris's gun raised high in the air before he points it at the figure digging its claws into the back of Scott's calves as the wounded alpha weakly tries to pull himself away. The sheriff shouts "Stop! Stiles, please just stop!" as he runs forward and crouches next to his freshly bloody son, trying to distract him away from the injured alpha. He's knocked back by a shrug, giving the hunter time to point his gun directly at the figure's head making everyone freeze again. Stiles' head raises as he drops the torn limb in his hands, turning slowly until the gun is pointed between his eyes. A deep, threatening growl rumbles from Stiles as his shoulders lower and tense like he's about to jump. 

Peter chooses that moment to come out from behind the furthest vehicle. Stiles' head turns abruptly to look and Peter hesitates as the gaze locks onto him. The sheriff has gotten to his feet again "Stiles, stop, please! We're trying to help you!" Stiles' head tilts minutely toward the sheriff but he doesn't take his eyes off Peter, completely ignoring the gun still aimed at him. Stiles stands and everyone but Peter flinches as the bloody teenager walks slowly toward the older beta, head tilted curiously. Chris hisses a warning that's ignored yet again as they all watch Stiles stalk toward Peter, whose standing still beside the car and maintaining eye contact. 

Fearful gasps leave every single one of them as Stiles' body contorts and grows, fur sprouting as he shifts into a freakishly large jungle cat. The cat's steps didn't slow down in the least as it shifted but Peter's eyes have gotten a lot wider and his stance less confident as the cat's head comes up level with his shoulder. It gets close enough for the beta to feel it's putrid breath on his cheek as it halts and sniffs at him. His self-preservation instincts kick in against the much larger predator and he tilts his head to the side in submission despite his pride. But this is Stiles, not some random alpha and until he attacks, Peter knows its best to be pragmatic. The bloody cat moves a little closer, snuffling and leaving red smears along Peter's bristly jawline before pressing its large muzzle into the crook of his neck. Peter doesn't dare move as he feels those strong jaws rub along his skin, deep breaths wuffing from its nose. 

Then a strange crooning sound happens and one of the beast's great paws lift and wrap around Peter's back, pulling him closer and huffing loudly as its mouth moves to his hair, licking at the side of his head. Peter still doesn't move and the crooning sound comes again before he presses hesitantly forward against the beast's chest. It seems to please the cat and it pushes forward, raising up on its hind legs and putting both paws and all its weight on the werewolf's shoulders, pressing him down until Peter collapses onto his back on the ground with the cat laying on top of him. Peter's breath stutters against the immense weight but his hands come up, unclawed, and press feather light around the cat's shoulders. The crooning/purring sound continues but it's interrupted by breathy hitches as it sniffs at his chest and arms, finally lapping with its tongue at any exposed skin it can find. The cat is a bloody mess but Peter holds back his complaints as it gets all over him as he feels the larger body press in closer. 

Derek and Isaac drag themselves over to their unconscious alpha and pull his pain as they inspect Scott's wounds which strangely aren't healing yet, his clearly dislocated hip needing help to realign. Chris moves to check on his daughter but the great cat's head snaps up at the first step and stares straight at him. Everyone tenses as the cat leaves Peter and slowly pads over to the hunter. Chris keeps his gun pointed away but refuses to drop it as Stiles paces around him a couple times before walking up to his front and starts sniffing at his clothes. Chris stays still as the beast's muzzle touches him as it sniffs until it's mouth goes to his empty palm and starts licking. The purring/rumbling sound starts up again and the cat grabs Chris's jacket with its teeth and tugs him over to where Peter is watching, still laid back on the ground. A paw goes behind the hunter's knee and pulls until Chris's leg bends and he gets pushed down beside Peter. The gory cat lays down over them both, Chris under his belly and Peter under his paws before he starts up a rumbling purr while sniffing and licking at both men. 

Everybody's staring, too stunned by the situation. It's quiet for a few moments until Allison starts to wake up. Then the sheriff moves into action and helps her up while telling Allison and the others to pack Scott into the other vehicle and leave. They go despite protesting, and the sheriff sits on the ground not far from his son and he and the others share ideas about what to do next while Stiles nuzzles and licks at the two men under him. 

Eventually the sheriff convinces his son to get in the back of the SUV, he drives while Peter and Chris sit in the back with Stiles licking up under their shirts for the drive back to Beacon Hills. It takes a few hours and Stiles doesn't shift back the entire drive. When the sheriff pulls into the garage of his house the cat follows the three men inside.


	3. Blood bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get Stiles home and they have one heck of a mess to clean off him, but not without Chris and Peter by his side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://img4.imagetitan.com/img4/small/20/20_2nldd83.jpg)   
> 

The sheriff sighs when they go inside and says he's going to go buy a kiddie pool so they can wash Stiles off. He tells Peter and Chris to go find some shorts in Stiles' room that they can wear since it doesn't look like his son's going to let the other two men out of his sight.

Stiles seems calm as Chris goes upstairs and brings down trunks for them but he doesn't let Chris close the downstairs bathroom door to get dressed and asserts his dominance by crowding them and growling deep in his chest. Peter gets over it quickly and strips, giving Chris an eyeful before he turns around so Stiles is between them and quickly changes clothes, ignoring the cat eyeing them up. 

Finished, both men are shirtless in their borrowed gym shorts as the cat licks at all the newly exposed skin. Peter makes a remark about the mess all that gore and saliva is making. Chris wants to know why Stiles is acting like this towards them. Peter isn't completely sure but says the only thing the two of them really have in common with each other is they have the most experience and knowledge of anyone else in town. Then Peter jokes that maybe Stiles just likes older men. Chris doesn't think it's funny but then Peter hears the sheriff come back and they leave the bathroom to greet him. 

The two of them manage to lead Stiles into the backyard where the sheriff is already filling up the two foot tall kid pool. The sheriff tells Chris to go get the water kettle boiling on the stove so the water's at least a little warm. Meanwhile Stiles starts to become more aggressive with Peter, pulling him in with a paw and licking with a more abrasive tongue at his shoulders. So Peter pulls away to get in the pool and sits with the water up to his chest. The cat paws at the water and circles the pool a couple times while looking back at the house where the sheriff has gone inside for shampoo. Chris comes back outside with the hot water and after pouring it in he joins Peter in the pool, the wolf scooting closer to Chris with a wink. Stiles climbs in across from them and lays down, paws on either side of Peter's lap while he licks at the hunter's chest and shoulders. He hisses while he purrs deeply as the two men start running their fingers through the blood-matted fur. Peter seems much more welcoming of the attention than Chris as the werewolf washes the red off the teenager's muzzle. By the time the sheriff reenters the backyard the pool looks like several people died in it. He frowns and hands over the shampoo before going back into the house to heat more water. 

The second round of clean water in the pool starts revealing chunks in Stiles' fur. Most of it's unidentifiable but they find several claws and Chris pulls a thin piece of flesh out of the water 6 inches across and holds it up, Peter identifying it as large intestine by the ribbing along it. The sheriff looks green in the face after they drain the water that time around, having to scoop out big handfuls of shredded flesh and chunks of hair from the bottom of the pool. 

The next change of water involves shampoo and the sheriff never thought bubbles could get that red. Even the other two men's eyes are a little pinched being surrounded and covered with it but the next rinse isn't as bad. John tries asking Stiles to change back so they can talk to him but the cat doesn't act like he's heard him. Peter says to give it time, he was in his human form at the cabin they found him at so they know he's at least capable of it. 

Just because they wash off the blood doesn't mean the scent isn't still there, even washing themselves off doesn't mean Chris and the sheriff can't still smell it. When Stiles gets out of the pool he shakes off the water making his fur puff out. "He sure is big," John comments and the others nod in agreement. They all go into the living room and the sheriff gets them towels and more of Stiles' borrowed clothes to change into, Stiles once again following them into the bathroom. John sits down in a chair across from the couch that Peter and Chris are herded onto by Stiles, who lays down on the floor between all of them. 

Now that Stiles is clean they can see that his fur is black with some barely discernible circular spots spanning outward from his belly, he's a black jaguar. Peter's eyes are practically sparkling as he comments that Stiles is gorgeous which John scowls at but Chris just shrugs one shoulder and nods while pursing his lips in agreement. The hunter says they need to talk about this, that he's rarely seen Jaguar shifters that had been turned by a werewolf outside of South America. Most of the cases he's heard about were women and involved lots of bloodshed and trauma leading to a large majority of the jags turning feral because of it. John points out that Stiles seems to be doing fine now but Peter cuts in saying that may be the case but they can't forget that as soon as Stiles saw the pack he instantly attacked and injured the alpha in very specific ways meant to debilitate and kill an enemy quickly, and that was before he even shifted to his larger form. Before the sheriff can fly off the handle in defense of his son Chris interrupts saying "We need to figure out what happened to Stiles, that's going to be what helps most right now. That and finding out all the Argent bestiary has to say about were-jaguars." 

Peter asks what the basement looked like and after a grim look shared between the hunter and the sheriff they tell him about it. He asks about the oldest bodies and Argent says it looks like it was at least a month of them being piled on top of each other. There were no signs the alpha pack was ever there other than their scent and the barrier to keep Stiles contained. They also noticed there was a winch at the top of the stairs attached to a snapped chain. Peter comments that that's an awful lot of retraints for three alphas to need for one shifter. John asks what they think the alpha pack was doing, keeping Stiles locked in a basement like that, he thought they were supposed to be recruiting. Peter says that if Stiles really was the one to kill Ennis and Kali, then Deucalion would most likely have reacted one of two ways. Either break him down and recruit Stiles, or take revenge on him for killing the two oldest members of the Demon Wolf's pack. John looks tense when he asks them, "What do you think they did to him?" 

Chris and Peter share a look before Peter leans forward with his elbows on his knees and looks at his clasped hands above the great cat dozing on the carpet. "Stiles' blood was found in the woods where he disappeared, Duecalion most likely bit him then. He must've brought Stiles with them to a hideout to allow for the change and to recover from losing pack members. The recruiting process probably started then. That usually involves the alpha establishing dominance and control over a new member with violence and force of will. But Stiles is stubborn and wasn't a werewolf like Duec expected him to be so it would've taken more serious means to continue to try and recruit him, if that's what Duecalion still wanted. Since we can assume the bodies in the basement were all other shifters then that's probably why the alpha started putting them in the room with Stiles. An unfamiliar beta in an enclosed space would've driven these foreign wolves to attack. That's if they weren't there willingly and trying to earn Stiles' place in the pack instead. Since Stiles is here and they are not that would mean that he or the rest of the alpha pack killed them, and going from past behavior, possibly absorbing their power. Now, we know that Stiles had to have killed at least one alpha because his eyes are red, but it's impossible to tell how many." 

"Wait, wait," the sheriff interrupts, "Why would Deucalion do that if he wanted to recruit Stiles, he obviously proved he could win in a fight, why let him have all that power?" Chris speaks up "Like Peter said, Stiles is stubborn and not a werewolf. Jaguars don't hold to the same pack dynamics as werewolves, they don't follow someone just because it's instinct. So Stiles would be even less inclined to follow the rule of the wolf who bit and tried to break him." 

Sharing another look with Peter as the hunter leans back, "It's possible Duecalion gave up the recruitment process halfway through and decided to pursue revenge instead." The sheriff looks tired, he found his son but so much has happened in the meantime. He asks, "What makes you so sure?" Chris keeps his face blank as he says "Because they left him there to starve when they were finished." The sheriff thinks about that a moment before drawing in a pained gasp, and clenches his jaw in anger over what was done to his boy and tries to console himself that at least they found him alive which was more than he had a week ago. 

Peter says to Chris "We need to find out who killed the shifters in the basement and how many were alphas because if it _was_ Stiles, then we at least would know what Duecalion's intentions were." John asks "And what would those be?" Chris cuts in before Peter can answer "Let's just hope that isn't what happened, its far more likely that the alphas made Stiles watch while they killed people and left Stiles with the bodies as his only food source." John blanches at the last part and seems to have heard enough for now. Chris and Peter share another look, as grim as the picture they painted for the sheriff is, they both know there are much worse things that someone like Deucalion is capable of in revenge for killing his two oldest pack members. As much as Chris would like to hope for luck to be on their side, he's known better than that for years. 

Lost in their grim thoughts noone noticed the jaguar change until a very naked Stiles is crawling up the front of the couch and sliding himself behind both men's backs, pulling his legs up between them. The sheriff squawks and throws a towel at Stiles' bare bits, which promptly falls and doesn't help at all as the sheriff shields his eyes and goes in search of clothes for his son. Meanwhile Stiles is sitting mostly on the two men's flanks causing them to lean forward, he's got an arm around both of their necks bending them towards each other with his face pressed into the hair above the nape of the hunter's neck, mouth open and breathing hot air, causing Chris's insides to twist. He glares at a smirking Peter and snaps at him to do something useful. Peter's smirk morphs into a grin as he tilts his head back to get Stiles' attention, who in the next second has his mouth sucking at the werewolf's neck, pressing more of his weight onto Peter's back. 

Chris coughs and says, "Stiles, would you talk to us please?" The teenager hums raggedly before his rough voice speaks "Not Stiles." Both men's shoulders tense and the sheriff comes back into the room and notices them. He asks "What'd I miss?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack reacts to what happened and decides that Lydia should be the one to go to the sheriff's house for more information.

Meanwhile, across town at Derek's loft the pack is in turmoil. Derek and Isaac think Stiles is too dangerous to let stay at the sheriff's. Allison agrees but doesn't want Stiles to get hurt. Lydia wasn't even there but she's pissed they can even consider provoking Stiles after everything he's been through when what he needs right now is their help. Scott is tired and he can still feel phantom pain from his healing wounds where Stiles tore open his abdomen and calves and dislocated his leg. He's worried that the men with Stiles right now aren't safe but he also just rescued his best friend finally and the pack needs to help fix him. After arguing about it they decide to have Lydia go see Stiles. Stiles has known her since they were kids and she's the only one in the room who didn't get attacked by him earlier.

She texts Mr. Argent on the drive over. When she knocks on the Stilinski's door it opens and she sees a blur before she's grabbed, the door's closed and she's pinned to the wall inside. She stays perfectly still while Stiles' hand is on her chest and his face is in her hair. She hears Peter and the sheriff telling Stiles in hushed voices not to hurt her, that she's a friend and it's okay. Her hair is yanked back and suddenly she's looking right into Stiles' red eyes, a curious but suspicious look on his face. And then just as suddenly Stiles lets go and walks away from her back into the living room, she only just now notices that he's shirtless and built more solidly than he used to be. Peter follows him and the sheriff rubs the back of his neck and apologizes for that, saying it honestly went better than they expected considering how things went earlier that day. "You got him clean?" "Yeah, took a swimming pool to do it and you don't even want to know what came off of him. He only shifted back a few minutes ago." The sheriff explains while she follows him into the other room. 

She sees Stiles sitting behind Peter and Chris on the couch as the sheriff offers her a chair. "Has he said anything?" The three men share a look that can't be anything good as Stiles stares at her. Chris says "He said he's not Stiles. That's all." She frowns while her mind processes this but asks "What do we know so far?" The men take turns telling her what conclusions they've recently come to about Stiles' time in the basement. The bodies, and what Duecalion's intentions might've been. She watches Stiles watch her like she's something he just can't figure out but at least there doesn't seem to be any hostility there. If she can convince the pack that Stiles isn't feral then that's at least a start. She suggests they ought to try talking to Stiles, that would help everyone the most right now, she says the pack is nervous. It would help to know if Stiles plans on attacking anyone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://postimages.org/)  
> 

After Lydia leaves Stiles follows Chris and Peter up to his bedroom after the sheriff suggests they turn in for the night since it's been such a long day. Peter takes off his shirt but when Chris hesitates to do the same Stiles gets in his face, chests pressed together. Chris avoids his eyes while Stiles stares at him, mouth and nose roaming within an inch of the hunters face.

Stiles' hands slide under the hem of Christopher's borrowed shirt before lifting it over the man's head. The teenager's nose trails over his shoulder before Peter clears his throat, getting Stiles attention onto him like he's done before. Stiles is instantly in the same position in front of Peter, nosing aggressively at the werewolf's neck while they run hands over each other's backs. 

Peter can feel the boy's erection pressing against him and, deciding to ignore it for now, slowly steps back and leads Stiles to the bed with him, climbing under the blankets to tempt the jaguar to sleep. Stiles hesitates, eyes alert and less warm than they used to be as he looks at Chris, waiting until the hunter sighs and walks past him to climb in next to Peter before following. 

The boy turns Chris to face the wolf while sliding in behind him, one arm slipping beneath their necks and the other against Peter's side, holding them both. Chris is tense, being spooned by a teenager with a werewolf pressed against his front, having to tangle his legs with the other man's to get comfortable and it doesn't help when Peter rests an arm over him to return Stiles' embrace. Then a raspy but low resonance purr starts to vibrate through his back, Stiles' tongue peaking out for a brief lick to the nape of his neck and Chris makes himself take a deep breathe and relax, he's stuck for the night and he might as well get some sleep. When Peter starts to snore quietly a few inches from his face he doesn't think it will be possible. 

But the next thing he knows he's waking up in the morning, sleep warm and more comfortable than he can ever remember being. That explains why it takes him a moment to realize he's tangled together with Peter against the wall with a large mound of fur at his back. Apparently Stiles shifted sometime during the night and is now taking up half the bed. 

When the jaguar wakes, they spend time convincing him to shift back while he licks at their skin with a rough tongue, saying they really should talk some more. He complies after a while and they all get out of bed. While Peter is looking through the boy's drawers for a different shirt to wear, Chris mentions asking the sheriff for some clothes, or to have someone bring them some of their own from their homes. 

Stiles growls unhappily, wrapping his arms around the Argent from behind, chest against the hunter's back, nuzzling his nape, and runs his hands all over his chest. Chris looks at Peter, who just smirks at him before tossing him one of the shirts he's picked out. After pulling one over his head Peter calls to Stiles, who latches himself to the wolf's side as they make their way out of the bedroom and downstairs, Chris not far behind them. 

The sheriff called in sick and went out early that morning to buy a bunch of steaks and is already making breakfast and cooking a few of them. When the trio come into the kitchen he smiles at his son and says, "Want some breakfast, kiddo? You must be hungry." 

Flashback: "It's not so hard once you give in to it, Stiles. There are so many out there that can cause you and your pack future harm and it's easy once they've given you a reason to decide they deserve to be killed. And now you know what it feels like to have the power to do so. But when you do it just because you can," Deucalion's eyes glint fanatically, "that's real power. When every part of their death belongs to you it makes the experience so much sweeter. And you'll become stronger every time you do it. The native americans believed that when you ate a person, their power and strength became a part of you. Perhaps they were more right than they knew. Have you tried it yet, Stiles? You must be hungry." End flashback. 

The human shaped jaguar comes back to himself, claws digging into the back of a chair that's splintered and ready to give out, the three men in the room looking at him with concern, Chris more wary than the others. Stiles let's go of the chair and walks over to the sheriff, rubbing a hand over his back to scent him, and sniffs at the steaks. John gives him a small smile, saying, "Are they cooked enough for you or should I keep em on?" Stiles looks at him, eyes lacking recognition but without any hostility and replies, "It's enough." 

The sheriff starts to plate the food and the jaguar moves back around the kitchen island to sit next to Peter, pressed against his side. Reaching out he pulls Chris by the arm into the seat beside him. After the hunter sits the teenager grabs the bottom of the chair and pulls it closer to his, startling the man at the display of strength but Chris decides not to comment as Stiles turns away and starts sniffing behind Peter's ear. 

Peter bares his neck giving the boy more room to explore, surprising himself by how welcoming he's been of the jaguar's attention since they found him. He's never behaved like this with any other shifter, even his sister. But he admits to himself that Stiles makes a stunning alpha and he supposes some of it's due to the fondness he's always had for the wickedly clever boy. 

Stiles nibbles and sucks behind his beta's ear, purring as he forgets about the other people in the room. He likes how submissive the handsome wolf has been, remembering how clever and strong the human side of himself always thought the man to be. 

Chris clears his throat when he sees Stiles' hand slide up Peter's thigh, breaking them both out of the moment, leaving them blinking and pulling out of each other's space. Stiles digs into the steak in front of him with bare hands while Peter deliberately avoids making eye contact with the teenager's father who is sat across from them. 

The sheriff has mixed feelings about the intimate way his son treats the two older men on either side of him. But he understands that Stiles isn't really present at the moment, having reverted to base instinct as a coping mechanism. And after the horrors his son has been through during the last few months, John is just happy that the jaguar side has found anchors to keep him from going savage again like it did back at the cabin when they rescued him. He doesn't even want to imagine what would've happened if Stiles hadn't been distracted by Peter instead of continuing to tear Scott apart. The hunter in front of him would probably have shot his son until he ran out of bullets, whether it would've killed Stiles or not though isn't something he's sure of.


	6. Chapter 6

The sheriff and the other two men plan to all stop by Peter's apartment for clean clothes and his laptop then go to Chris's to get clothes for himself and take a look at the Argent bestiary. They all pile into the cruiser and the sheriff drives while the others sit in the back with Stiles between them. Stiles flexes his hand on Chris's thigh while he nibbles on the werewolf's stubbly jaw.

The stop by Peter's place is fast as he runs upstairs for his things leaving Chris in the car to distract Stiles. Stiles' hand slides under the bottom of his tshirt and strokes over his toned stomach while the teenager sniffs at his shoulder, rubbing his cheek against it, the hunter's attention firmly out the window. When Peter gets back in the car with a duffel bag they all go to Chris's building. 

The first thing Chris does is check his voicemail. A mexican hunter he knows left a message warning him that berserkers were heading north. The woman says they witnessed two run across the border just the other day that could possibly be on their way to the nemeton and Chris should keep an eye out for them. 

Stiles drags Peter away to roll around on Chris's bed while the sheriff and Chris look up the bestiary. Chris eyes them as they leave the room then turns and asks the sheriff why he's so okay with them going off together. John says, "There's really no way to stop Stiles' wishes at this point. Besides, I really don't think it's gonna be Peter calling the shots in there. Do you?" 

Stiles finds Chris's room by scent and pushes Peter down on the bed. He crawls between the older man's legs to lay on his chest, hands sliding under his back as he nuzzles at Peter's neck, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste. Peter sighs heavily and puts his hands on Stiles' hips. As Stiles starts chewing gently along his jawline Peter asks, "Aren't you afraid I might try to kill you?" Stiles stops and lifts his head up so only inches separate their faces before speaking in a deep rumbling voice, " **Do you think you could, beta?** " Then he leans down and slowly licks once over Peter's lips without breaking eye contact then brushes his lips along the wolf's cheek. 

Peter licks his wet lips then answers thickly, "I haven't decided if I want to yet." As they both hear the man's heart skip a beat Peter feels Stiles grin against his skin before his shirt gets rucked up. Stiles' body and face drag along his chest as the teen slides down him. Peter lifts his head to watch as Stiles licks short little lines over his stomach, mapping his abs with his tongue. Then suddenly he bites the werewolf's side with blunt teeth, Peter hisses as his head falls back on Chris's pillow. 

The scent of Peter's arousal fills the air causing Stiles to slide back up him and grind his hips down against Peter's, open mouth against the wolf's thick neck. Stiles' knee spreads to the side under Peter's and Stiles pulls that leg up over his hip. Then the teenager's clawed hand scratches up Peter's thigh before squeezing his ass firmly drawing a groan out of the older man. 

Stiles hasn't shaved in months and he rubs his short bristles over Peter's neck, pinking the skin up. The werejaguar grinds their jean clad erections together, switching to breathing hotly with an open mouth on Peter's cheek, watching the man lose the battle with his careful restraint. 

Peter has been trying to hold his responses back to keep from taking advantage of the teenager but he can't lie to himself and say he's never wanted this. Stiles was beautiful before and just submissive enough for Peter to fantasize about marking up his lovely skin until he was a begging mess. But now, _now_ , Peter thinks he's never seen, and will probably never see again, a more gorgeous creature than a wild, dominant Stiles sitting, unafraid, at the top of the food chain. 

Peter knows Stiles isn't the same vulnerable boy he used to be. He killed two members of the alpha pack by himself then endured Deucalion's cruelty for months. Now he's probably killed dozens of werewolves including who knows how many alphas and then feasted on the flesh of his enemies. If this were five hundred years ago Stiles would be considered a hardened warrior. So Peter decides to stop seeing the young man on top of him as needing any type of protection since he's become stronger and more dangerous than even Peter himself. Peter wraps his other leg around the back of Stiles's thigh, welcoming the werejaguar's attentions, pulling him down further and thrusting upwards against him. 

After briefly scanning the bestiary Chris prints out multiple copies of all the pages on jaguars and black panthers. John tells Chris that he can be the one to break Stiles and Peter apart in his bedroom. Chris gives him a look that says he's confused about why and the sheriff shrugs, saying sadly, "My son doesn't exactly see me as an authority figure right now." Chris puts his hand on John's shoulder and squeezes comfortingly, saying "If there's a way back for him we're gonna find it," before leaving the room. 

Chris stands in the doorway of his bedroom crossing his arms at seeing Stiles dry humping an eager Peter below him, "Really you two, in my bed?" The werewolf lifts his head and says over Stiles' shoulder with his traditional smirk, "You could always join us if you wanted." Stiles' groan sounds a lot like a purr as he turns his head, looking at the hunter with red, lust filled eyes, clearly liking the idea. Chris clears his throat, uncrossing his arms as looks down, scratching his forehead, "We should head back, we found everything we needed. I'm just gonna go wait by the door." Chris points down the hall, looking just like a younger Stiles as he fidgets, glancing away and scratching the back of his head before he walks out of sight. Chris awkwardly tells the waiting sheriff that Stiles and Peter are gonna need another minute. John hums then asks, without looking at him, "I was right, wasn't I?" Chris, knowing he's referring to Stiles being the one in control, hums stiffly in the affirmative. 

Stiles is even more turned on now, surrounded by Chris's fresh, nervous scent. His claws are poking through the man's pants over his thigh while he thrusts, half shifted and drawing small amounts of blood, the heady scent making his mouth water. Stiles' lips are against Peter's collar bone, his sharp jaws clicking together like he's shivering. After a minute of heavy panting between them, sweat beads on Peter's forehead as he gets close. The unexpected excitement of being so aggressively pursued by Stiles has any remaining reasons for holding back fading into a haze. 

When Stiles rasps huskily into his ear, "I'm going to keep you, wolf," Peter tilts his head back without thought and Stiles' sharp teeth bite into his shoulder causing them to come simultaneously. Their bodies quake, Stiles' claws are dug in and a feline yowl rumbles through the teen's shuddering body making Peter worry for a second that he's going to shift right on top of him. 

When they meet the others in the hallway Peter's cheeks are pink and he avoids eye contact with the sheriff. John watches Peter rub at the bloody shoulder of his shirt and thinks this is probably the first time the werewolf has blushed in decades. In the elevator, Chris stands in front of them all, nearest to the doors with the sheriff at the back. John watches Stiles stare at Chris while Peter stares at Stiles. He silently hums to himself, puzzled by the dynamic but appreciating how the three most dangerous people in town are seeming to fit together so well. 

The drive back to the Stilinski household is quiet, awkwardness forgotten as Stiles plasters himself along Peter's side, rubbing his face over his shoulder and scratching with blunt fingernails at the man's chest while Peter sniffs at his dark hair. Chris has been pulled in by his far arm until he had no choice but to sandwich Stiles in with his chest against the teenager's back. 

When they get back to the house they take their respective seats on the couch and armchair to look through the printouts. Stiles ignores the papers as he hovers over Peter and Chris's shoulders before getting bored and going to the fridge to sink his teeth into a raw steak. Across town the pack is looking at the exact same data on the copy of the Argent bestiary on Lydia's laptop. 

_A werejaguar, or nagual, shares a supernatural connection with the supernatural demons the Berserkers, being able to track and sense them. They are also able to enslave and command a Berserker to do their bidding. The werejaguar and black panther are sufficient castors of nontraditional magic, more so than most other shifters._

_**Note** : The black panther shifter is a formidable enemy and is to be hunted with extreme prejudice. Do not pursue these creatures alone or engage in close combat. There is no protocol forbidding the trapping of this creature behind a barrier for removal. _

_Nagual tend to be loners, very comfortable with themselves and are often drawn to other solitary people. The Black Panther is a loner as well, this Spirit is one of solitary study who often walks alone. This is not a lonely life, rather one of choice that develops Panther’s senses especially to psychic abilities and magic._

_There is a widespread superstition that in order to become a nagual you have to do a pact with the devil and offer him something very special in return. Such a nagual is believed to use their powers for good or evil according to their personality. In English the word is often translated as "transforming witch", but translations without the negative connotations of the word 'witch' would be "transforming trickster" or "shape shifter."_

_Jaguar is a Native American word meaning, “he who kills with one blow.” They live in mountainous regions, jungles and swamps but are also able to live in scrublands and deserts. Jaguars live in caves and canyons close to fresh water. In mythology caves are linked with retreat and isolation, a place to go to aid soul work. Water is linked with the emotional body of humans._

_The jaguar’s natural talent for hunting on land, up trees, and in water led to it being regarded in mythology as the ‘master of animals’, and spiritual lord of the powers of fertility in the natural world. All animals are the jaguar’s prey, but it is prey to none, they are unrivalled. There are no other predators that can compete with this powerful cat. Only human beings kill jaguars, which may explain why Native Americans regard humans and jaguars as spiritual equals. They are associated with conflict, war captives, and human sacrifice. Similarly to the tiger, this solitary hunter stalks silently and patiently, to then strike with lightning speed. Panthers, generally speaking, are smaller than lions or tigers – yet far more fierce._

_Mythology: Jaguar is the earth father, holding the authority over the sacred power of and in the earth, and the animals who live upon it. In Mayan mythology, the jaguar was seen as the ruler of the Underworld, and as such, a symbol of the night sun and darkness. The night sun refers to the sun hidden by the earth at night. The jaguar is representative of power, ferocity, valor, and aggressiveness but without solar influence._

_The Black Panther is endowed with great magic and power and this power will increasingly be experienced. The Black Panther has the greatest mysticism associated with it of all the great cats. Because Panther has lunar ties, they hold the power of mysticism and the safety of darkness. Her wisdom and knowledge is as deep as the night itself. She is sensitive to vibrations that others cannot process, and very in touch with her sensual, sexual self. It is the symbol of the feminine, the dark mother, the dark of the moon. It is the symbol for the life and power of the night and of the feminine energies manifest upon the earth. It is often a symbol of darkness, death, and rebirth from out of it._

_The roar of the jaguar was the roar of thunder, even though the animals themselves are incapable of roaring. Thus the Black Panther was the god of darkness and could cause eclipses by swallowing the sun._

_It is the spirit of imminent rebirth. There still exists in humanity a primitive fear of the dark and of death. The Black Panther helps us to understand the dark and death and the inherent powers of them; and thus by acknowledging them, eliminate our fears and learn to use the powers._

_Jaguars are strongly linked to the unleashing of desires. So, the panther, too, is a symbol of subconscious urges and abilities. This is something the Aztecs and Mayans also had a notion of. Both peoples spoke and taught about the power of becoming half-jaguar and half-human, because a person who can do this can be rid of all of his cultural restrictions and inhibitions. In other words, he can finally act upon his hidden desires. One who can become a jaguar is shorn of all cultural restrictions. The alter ego is free to act out desires, fears, and aspirations. The Indian shamans would perform rituals to borrow jaguar power. One who could do such could do great good or great ill._

_For some, the jaguar represents the power to face one’s fears, or to confront one’s enemies. However, they are also associated with vision, which means both their ability to see during the night and to look into the darker parts of the human heart. A jaguar priest, ‘Lord of the Smoking Mirror,’ wielded this magical obsidian mirror to look into mens’ hearts, piercing the cosmic darkness with the all-seeing eyes. A Black Panther’s stare is intense. You cannot avoid its piercing awareness. This Spirit strips away all facades and understands others down to a cellular level._

_Along with physical vision, jaguars are also associated with prescience and the foreknowledge of things to come. The jaguar often warns of disaster, though he does not offer any reassurance. A Panther, Leopard or Jaguar people can develop clairaudience, the ability to hear communications from other forms of life or dimensions._

_The Jaguar’s medicine includes seeing the roads within chaos and understanding the patterns of chaos, moving without fear in the darkness, moving in unknown places, shape shifting, psychic vision, facilitating soul work, empowering oneself, reclaiming power. The Black Panther’s medicine includes the same as jaguar but in addition is keeper of the circular time continuum, Gatekeeper to the unknowable*._

_In the later Maya civilization, the jaguar was believed to facilitate communication between the living and the dead and to protect the royal household. The Maya saw these powerful felines as their companions in the spiritual world, and a number of Maya rulers bore names that incorporated the Mayan word for jaguar (b’alam in many of the Mayan languages)._

_The jaguar was identified with sorcery and magic, and regarded as the spirit-helper of shamans and sorcerers, as well as the most dazzling symbol of priests and kings. Green stones on jaguar idols represented water and preciousness, an association reinforced by the jaguar’s longstanding relationship with blood and fertility. Jaguar totems symbolize nighttime and punishment of collaborators. Jaguar totems also often had toads on them; toads symbolise death and rebirth._

_Black Panther as a Spirit Animal often comes to those who need protection. This Sacred Mother watches over those She chooses with great courage, often chasing away our own fears of those things we don’t understand with her proactive bravery. The Panther Spirit Animal helps us navigate darkness, within and without. As we follow Her lead, we transform doubts into strengths so that we may inevitably be birthed into a new level of awareness. When the jaguar bounds into your reality it is asking you to go within, to release your fears, to heal your emotions and to awaken your inner sight. When you come out of retreat the jaguar will be there awaiting you. If you choose to follow his lead, he will guide you into the underworld where the secrets of life and creation are to be found._

_Factual attributes of astrology; preferably using the Aztec calendar: People born under the Panther, Leopard or Jaguar spirit animal should trust their thoughts and inner visions as they are based in reality. They hunt silently, seeming to appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. This means that Black Panther people can be very elusive. You may have to wait for them to find you. The panther has over 500 voluntary muscles that they can use at will. This reflects a lot about an individual who has such animals as horoscopes. It reflects an ability to do a variety of tasks as he or she wills. It is simply a matter of deciding and putting to use those particular “muscles” – be they physical, mental, psychic, or spiritual. Latent psychic sight may be stirred in those with this power animal. Nietzsche once said that “that which does not kill us makes us stronger.” It is this same idea that is awakened in the lives of those who open to the power of the panther totem. It’s said that the most powerful form of communication available to humans is complete silence. Those with Panther as a Totem Animal know when to be silent and have the strength to do so. Additionally, Panther people rarely reveal too much about themselves._

_This spirit animal signals a time of rebirth after a period of suffering and death on some level. This implies that an old issue may finally begin to be resolved, or even that old longstanding wounds will finally begin to heal, and with the healing will come a reclaiming of power that was lost at the time of wounding. Those things of childhood and beyond that created suffering and which caused a loss of innate power and creativity are about to be reawakened, confronted and transmuted. The panther marks a new turn in the heroic path of those to whom it comes. It truly reflects more than just coming into one’s own power. Rather it reflects a reclaiming of that which was lost and an intimate connection with the great archetypal force behind it. It gives an ability to go beyond what has been imagined, with opportunity to do so with discipline and control._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of this is actual research I did on Jaguars and Black Panthers from various sources.


	7. From the other side of the lens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Little_Bites since they gave me the idea to show the story from the Panther's point of view. I'm glad they did because it also allows me to show some of Stiles' new abilities so far in correspondence to the bestiary entry without a dry second hand description. Hope you like it, and comments and feedback are always welcome.
> 
> P.S I added a picture to the beginning of this entire story, just a few paragraphs in.

The story so far from the Panther's point of view, a suggested read along:

The powerfully tainted alpha looks like a swirling pool of boiling blood and he knows instantly this one needs to be cleansed from the earth in the most efficient way possible. The mirrored alphas are an interesting contrast to each other, the same amount of blood on each of their hands, yet one's soul is dark and the other's light. The wolves sent downstairs to his judgement are all crazed, bloodthirsty beasts, not a single worthy soul between them. He later feasts on their flesh, absorbing their power into himself, the turbulent ruckus of their beings smoothed over as he digests them. 

There's silence for a long time, the absence of another living being fitting in this prison of death and decay. The boiling alpha was at least clever enough to lock him down here, fearful of their power and wrath. Then one day there's noise upstairs, contrary creatures, some more concerned for his human's safety than others. The wolves wisely stay out as two male humans descend into his den, both bright, protective souls. 

The hunter has rivers of blood on its hands but strangely has a kind heart, earning his tolerance for now. The father, the one his human cares about more than anyone, the relationship stained with past hurts yet the love shines out, soul deep, willing to sacrifice themselves for their only blood kin. He feels his human reaching out towards the man, wanting to be held by arms that comfort through sadness and emotional pain. 

He follows the father upstairs, the sun limiting his physical vision. There's a former alpha, a born wolf with a jagged sense of self, an internally loathing mess of a soul. The current alpha is an abomination, its presence a spikey, sticky thing, out of sync with nature because of the rejection of its inner animal, the pathetic creature a tangle of agony that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him. 

The pack's connection grates on his senses, festering like a tree being consumed by insects, so he attacks the source of the infection, tearing it down and splitting it open. They fight against him uselessly, their weakness the only thing keeping them from immediately being dealt with. 

He's about to go for the child alpha's spine when the father rushes forward, harmless as it tries to stop him, he shrugs it away before a gunshot rings out in the clearing. The hunter thinks it can stop his work, ready to die to stop him from ending the unworthy alpha's existence. Despite his human's protests he's about to leap forward and break the foolish man's wrists so he can't fight anymore before he goes back to eliminating the hobbled wolf. 

But he's distracted when the Protector steps out, like a hot ray of sunshine appearing from behind a dark corner, fierce and clever. He remembers what his human showed him about it. The unbreakable one, the one that outwitted death's hold, somewhat similar to them in that regard. He can see the wolf's scars, still under the surface and covering half its body yet doing nothing to diminish its appeal, making it stronger than ever, like a broken teapot rebuilt with gold in the cracks. 

The father tries to distract him but the Jaguar is intrigued by its new target. As he gets up and nears it he wonders how it's going to react to him, will it prove itself to be as foolish as the others and attack him, perhaps not. This wolf, the one with the blue fire in its chest and eyes, he can see the admiring respect it feels for them in its gaze. Ignoring the hunter's voice, tired of listening to their pitiful attempts to affect their demands over him, he shifts into his purer self. 

They all fear the sight of his glorious animal, as well they should, yet the wolf doesn't flinch, its survival instinct coming to the surface as it stands bravely, not showing weakness to a much larger predator. He stops in front of it and sniffs at its presence, the unexpected awe coming off it pleasing to the Jaguar's senses. 

Then, just as he had hoped it would be wise enough to do, the wolf bares its throat to him and he's quick to accept the gesture. This man, the one his human holds in such high regard, the one with the soul of flames, has submitted willingly to him. His instincts thrill, longing to claim this fascinating beauty as his own, despite his dislike for the species. He despises wolves normally, too many of them nothing but slobbering detached changelings. But this one has superior worth compared to the others so he's willing to give it a chance. 

Oh, how he likes the way it tastes, like a roaring fire and sex, he wants more of it. But the wolf is unresponsive and he wants it to act, to show him it's as courageous as it feels, to react to his attentions. Slowly it presses against him, the Jaguar crooning in delight, buckling the wolf under his weight. It touches at him tentatively, accepting his larger body on top of it. 

Purring as he laps his rough tongue against its tantalizing skin, sampling at it's essence. Noticing that it's potential is missing an ingredient, the Jaguar searches it out. Knowing it will have a slightly neutralizing effect, just enough to bring the wolf's ragged inferno down to a controlled blaze. 

The other wolves help their fallen leader and then the hunter moves, directing his focus to the curious niggle at the back of his mind in the hunter's presence, he recognizes his human's subtle past yearnings. It makes the Jaguar curious as he approaches it, circling around the hunter as he contemplates its seemingly unremarkable presence. But oddly it doesn't feel as murky as it should, instead it feels polished, like a stone that fits so perfectly in your hand you can't help imagining flaws in its size or texture. 

The man stands still while he inspects it, not attacking him but not relenting either. That's good, it's strong, not quite the same as the wolf, more like the ancient walls of a castle that have yet to crumble. He licks its hand, purring at the taste of brimstone, clean metal, and alluring male sweat. His human is still, treasuring the interaction like the rare word from a coveted lover, and the Jaguar realizes his oversight of the man. In order to create a forge you need both the fire and the blacksmith. 

He drags the hunter over to his wolf, collapsing it to the ground next to the other and laying over them both. He licks the flavor off their skin, the combination of the two making a part of him shift comfortably as he claims them as his, covering them with his scent. Now that they're together, he can feel the similarities in them, both with much more potential than the others while living seperate from the pack. Both protectors, one ferocious, the other compassionate. He can feel their opposing forces becoming greater when combined, like water and salt, not consumable but with a much higher tolerance against freezing. 

He ignores the others as the father makes the pack leave, dragging their wounded alpha with them. His human's only family staying behind to communicate with his two prizes. He let's them convince him to leave with them, no longer needing his den now that they've freed him from it. He doesn't let his hunter and wolf seperate from his side, ingraining his saliva into their skin, making sure noone will mistake who they belong to. 

They go to the father's home, his human's scent ingrained in the wood calming them both significantly. The father leaves and the hunter moves in the house, the wolf yet to turn its gaze away from him. When the hunter gets back they change clothing but he doesn't let the hunter hide itself from his sight. He observes as their handsome bodies are bared to him, marking all the newly revealed skin up after they've finished. 

They coax him into the backyard as the father returns, having started making a bath for them. The hunter leaves his side again and he huffs in annoyance, the human too ignorant of the importance of his immediate claim on them. He makes up for it by pulling the wolf closer, not intending to let this one get away. 

But it does pull away, getting into the bath and looking at him expectantly. The Jaguar tests the water, untrusting of the father's intentions, its anxiety and desperation making his hackles rise. When the hunter returns and heats the water before climbing in he follows, unwilling to let both of his companions risk the liquid without him. 

After confirming the bath is harmless he notices there's not enough of his scent on the hunter so he works to fix that, marking up it's attractive muscles. They start massaging his fur and he purrs, rumbling his approval as they wash him with their hands. He turns his attention to the wolf as it cleans his muzzle, touching him much more frequently than the other so he crackles his purrs encouragingly at the curious wolf. 

The father makes itself scarce, the Jaguar's fur getting looser, shedding its protective coating, the scent too ingrained in it to come out. His prizes marvel at the trophies they find in it, the claws of foolish alphas that tried to jump on his back, the intestine of a large bull of a wolf. Then come the bubbles, he tolerates the suds patiently even though the three men don't seem to like them. 

He ignores the father speaking to him, uninterested in the man's wishes. When the bath seems to be over he's pleased by the strong scent of his den on his companions, having soaked into their skin with the water. He preens as the others appreciate his immense size, three men such an easy pride for him to defend. His hunter and wolf wear his human's clothes, his old scent soaking into them through the smell of blood. He herds them away from the father onto the couch, next to each other and in one place so he can groom his fur. 

His wolf's fascination is obvious at his revealed coat and he feels satisfied at the pride and awe pouring from it. The hunter agrees, and the Jaguar relaxes further, he has pleased his companions, there are no enemies near and the father is passive, now he can rest a bit. He listens to their voices, only half paying attention to what they say, but noticing how wise his hunter and wolf are. 

He relaxes in this safe new den, shifting back to his smaller form, missing the touch of his prizes' skin. He climbs onto the couch between them, the father shocked at his nudity, his protective gore having shielded it at the cabin. He inhales against the hunter's neck, appreciating his grounding scent. The wolf bares its throat to him, tempting him away from the other and he rewards it by sucking at its skin, pressing his weight against the lovely wolf. 

The hunter asks him to talk but he's tired of being referred to by the wrong title, he's "not Stiles," and they need to learn the difference. His human asked for his protection, too wounded to control them both, so the Jaguar carefully covered him up with layers of empty silence so he could heal in peace. His wolf and hunter tense at his words but he ignores them as he familiarizes himself with his companions' combined presence. 

Not long after, an unfamiliar female park's her vehicle outside. He's watching her through the curtain before the other's even have a chance to react. She knocks and he yanks her inside, holding her against the wall as he inspects her thoroughly. This presence is different from the others, the closest similarity being with his wolf, the smell of death under their top scents the same, ah, changed by his companion then. She stays still, showing her intelligence, as his wolf and the father try to calmly reassure him of her lack of hostility. He twists his hand in her red hair, forcing her to meet his gaze, finding she has nothing but good intentions towards his human. 

The Jaguar accepts this and releases her, going back to the couch, his wolf following closely behind. He watches her as she comes into the room and sits, nervous but putting on a brave front. He can tell exactly what she is, a witness, and despite her bright colors the aura of death surrounding her is like a cloud mixing her visage with grey tone. Except for her hair. It glows a fiery orange despite the cloud, like the flame impervious to darkness atop a candle. He continues to stare at her, scenting absently at his chosen men and watches them interact before she leaves soon after. 

Following his wolf and hunter up to his human's bedroom, their scent mingles nicely with years of his past one. His wolf puts on one of their shirts readily but the hunter hesitates. He won't have his human's favored disrespecting their bond so he intimidates the man, pressing their chests together, reminding it who they belong to, reminding it that they've shared the sight of their body with him before. 

He removes the hunter's shirt himself, sniffing against its shoulder, his human opening one eye to pay attention to the smell and feel of its skin. His wolf provokes his focus and he switches to pressing against the flirtatious one instead, nosing roughly at its neck while they caress each other's skin. He presses their hips together, making his desire known but the wolf pulls away gently, leading him to the bed and climbing in to tempt him. 

But the Jaguar won't allow his hunter not to join them. They belong in the bed together and he doesn't appreciate its reluctance when it has already allowed his claim. The hunter's hesitation causes his human to shy out of sight again from the rejection. He glares at the man until it sighs and gives in, climbing into the bed next to his wolf. 

He turns the hunter towards the other while climbing onto the bed behind it, sliding his arm beneath their heads. He holds them close, the human in the middle, guarded on both sides against attack. His wolf returns his embrace and he can sense that part of the hunter's reluctance is due to its dislike for the wolf. 

He rumbles soothingly, assuring his companions with his presence, licking the back of the hunter's neck to bring it calm. The hunter starts to relax while the wolf falls asleep quickly, displaying its trust for him. Pleasingly, the hunter is soothed by his ministrations and falls asleep shortly afterwards as well. 

He relaxes, his human's eye opening again to soak in the feeling of the men in their arms, skin pressed against each other. In his sleep the hunter welcomes their presence, contentness wafting from it, unused to such positive physical contact. He rests, shifting in the middle of the night as their energies sync, heat radiating through their bodies, mixing to create it's own unique warmth. 

When he wakes, his men are already up, the hunter uncomfortable so close to the wolf so he grooms them both to help settle its nerves. They speak to him, asking him to shift so they can talk to each other. He doesn't want to talk though, silence is much more connective, not tainted by motives. He shifts finally, hearing the father come into the house downstairs and start to make a meal for them. 

While the wolf searches for another of his human's shirts to wear the hunter grumbles about wearing its own or, even worse, the father's clothing. He grabs the hunter from behind, rubbing his scent into its chest with his hands, showing it that his scent is the only one it needs to wear. The wolf taunts the hunter's complaints, calling the Jaguar to him. He likes how the wolf is always so welcoming of his touch, never denying it the way the other does. 

He doesn't let go of his favored companion as they go downstairs to the kitchen where the father is in a good mood because of the return of his son's presence in their home. The father asks him if he wants some breakfast, his human perking up at the use of the fond nickname before they're thrown into a flashback by his next words, "you must be hungry." His human wails in despair, the father's words echoed by the murderous alpha, the one who scarred his human so, communicating with pain and crippling with starvation. 

He comes back to the present, hands breaking through the chair in front of him, the three men in the room concerned, the hunter more careful than the others, willing to protect the father with its life if necessary. He goes to the father, brushing past the hunter, and reassures the elder with a forgiving hand rubbing over its back. He's not angry, the father would never intentionally mock their pain so he scents the man and sniffs the cooking steaks. The father asks if the meat is to his liking, he appreciates the offering and replies with, "it's enough," its nerves calming at the sound of his voice. 

He goes back around the kitchen island and sits next to his wolf, pressed up against its side. He pulls the hunter in by the arm, tired of its lack of enthusiasm over their bond. The man sits and he drags its chair closer to his side where it belongs. The hunter startles at the display of strength but he just ignores it and turns his attention to the more emotionally open of the two. 

The wolf welcomes his affection, surprising itself and he knows the wolf isn't accustomed to offering its neck, having learned through years of rejection and manipulation to be suspicious of another's touch. The fond respect it has for his human glows from the center of its chest as he teases at the skin behind the charming wolf's ear, so beautiful and submissive despite its contrary nature. 

The admiration and answering respect his human has for the wolf shows through and he remembers how the boy always turned to thoughts of the wolf's resiliency to bolster his courage when he felt close to breaking. The hunter clears its throat as his hand slides unconsciously up the wolf's thigh and he blinks, realizing he lost his concentration while thinking about his favored's willingness for his intimacy. 

He digs into the steaks in front of him, his wolf nervous of the father's opinion, despite the human's internal lack of negative judgement. The father's emotions turn, from confusion at the Jaguar's taste in companions to relief about having his son back, to anxiety over the viciousness he displayed when attacking the broken pack and the lengths the hunter would've gone to in order to stop him. [](https://postimg.cc/njpB1nb7)

The men plan to run an errand, gathering things from their respective homes. He let's them cover him with a shirt, pleased when the wolf helps dress him. The ride in the car is silent, his hand possessively on the hunter's thigh, no longer having patience for its refusal as he nibbles on the wolf's jaw, his lips tingling at the scratch of short stubble. 

His wolf hurries to get its things when they separate, and he purrs as he feels its eagerness to return. He builds on the connection with his hunter, knowing how important it is to his human. He runs his hand over the skin of the man's toned stomach, sniffing its shoulder and spreading his scent with his cheek. 

The hunter aims its attention out the window but its slowly coming around to him, unable to deny the growing flattery in its belly over his desire for it. His wolf returns, relieved to be back in the Jaguar's presence and he turns his focus back towards them, fingers brushing under its sleeve while they scent each other's jaws. 

At the next stop, it encourages his touch and he wants to fulfill the offer, taking it away to the hunter's bed while the others stay in the office. The wolf goes, confused by its own eagerness to interact, trying to remind itself not to be so open with him. But he won't allow that doubt to persist, he pushes the wolf down on the hunter's mattress, the human's scent surrounding them as he crawls between the wolf's legs, hands on it's back as he lays on top of it while tasting its throat. 

Able to touch as he wishes, the wolf sighs in relief, hands on his hips, the burden of an audience finally lost. The wolf tries to hide its desire for his acceptance beneath it's hard won mask, but underneath desiring devotion and the love and respect it deserves above all else. He chews gently at its strong jaw as it speaks to him, "aren't you afraid I might try to kill you?" 

Afraid, no, never again. If the wolf were foolish enough to try he would be disappointed that he would have to kill it, despite knowing his human would be distraught over the loss. Still, it shows gumption, stating that it's not willing to be so easily dominated, that it's a predator too. He let's power sink into his voice, **"Do you think you could, beta?"** , reminding the weaker shifter of his strength and the foolhardiness of considering this line of thought further. 

He stares into its eyes as he leans down and licks up over his lovely wolf's lips, brushing his mouth along its cheek after. It licks the taste of him away, "I haven't decided if I want to yet." He hears the wolf's heart skip a beat, smirking because he knows it heard the lie as well. He knows the wolf has already considered being his, has in fact started to lean towards the concept. 

He decides he likes the small act of rebellion, pushing its shirt up revealing its toned body, rubbing his face and chest against the shirt then its skin as he scoots down. As it watches he licks along the lines of its firm stomach, exploring the slopes and valleys of its muscles. Adding a bit of pain to the pleasure, knowing it will heighten the wolf's arousal, he bites with blunt teeth at its side. It hisses and drops its head back, the scent of its expected interest filling the air. 

He slides back up it, grinding their erections together as he breathes hotly over its thick neck. He slides his knee higher, spreading the wolf's legs and pulling one over his hip. His claws make a scratching sound as he slides his palm up its jean covered thigh, squeezing its firm ass in his hand. It groans its pleasure and he marks up its skin with his facial hair until it glows a delicious pink. 

He raises his head up to press his open mouth against its cheek, thrusting against it, watching the poorly concealed pleasure on its face. The wolf has been trying to be a gentleman for his human's sake, worried about taking advantage of the teenager he cares so much about. But he knows the desires it has harbored towards this 'Stiles', the boy with the special soul. He senses the wolf accept that they're not weak any longer, aroused even further by their newfound power and lack of vulnerability. Respecting his human even more now that he has blood on their hands, an actual killer instead of a false saint. 

The wolf wraps its other leg around him and pulls him closer, giving in to his intentions, grinding up against him. He thrusts faster, finally able to seek his pleasure now that the wolf is open to its own. He hears the hunter come down the hall, standing sternly in the doorway, hiding its intrigue at the sight of them as it states its disapproval of their use of its bed before the wolf teasingly invites the hunter to join them. 

His human has been curiously peering out, excited by the wolf's enthusiasm. But the invitation for the hunter to join has the boy's head rising up high, looking through their eyes back at the man, wanting to see its reaction, wanting to show that they want that too, very much. The hunter clears its throat, avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by the idea but not feeling any disgust over it either. 

It sooths his human's hopeful soul that the time will eventually come where the hunter won't put up so much of an effort into denying them in order to protect the father's son. The fleeting glimpse of guilt and belief that it could harm his human fading behind its emotional fortress. The hunter is nervous, fidgeting as it suggests it's time to go, looking at them one more time, scolding itself at the lapse in control, before leaving them alone. 

The hunter's renewed presence has ratcheted up his arousal, both him and his human needing release now so he thrusts harder, grabbing the wolf more aggressively, his claws digging harshly into its thigh. The coppery scent stirs the heat in his belly, his mouth watering at the tantalizing scent of his lover's blood. His jaws quiver and his wolf gets closer to release and with it the smell of its perspiration as it gives in to its want for their sex. 

Having never met a wolf that he likes, especially not one that has the Jaguar's senses so eager for its presence, he rasps out that he's going to keep it with him. The wolf is distracted by pleasure and unconsciously bares its throat, seduced by being wanted by one finally worthy of its flame. 

Accepting the wolf's submission, he bites into its shoulder, marking it as theirs, and their release flows through them both sweetening the taste of its blood. He yowls his victory, body quaking and shivering, a thrill of completion flowing through him like a wave. He lays on top of his chosen companion, basking in the combined scent of their pleasure, like a field heated in the sunshine. 

The wolf sighs, nudging gently at his shoulder, saying they should really join the others before the father loses its patience, unaware that the human has already come to terms with its son's choice. As they meet the others in the hall by the door, the wolf feels bashful, its cheeks blooming color as it rubs at their bitemark. Despite the lack of shame, it feels concern about the father voicing its disapproval though its comforted by the knowledge that the Jaguar wouldn't allow the separation. 

During the elevator ride, he stares curiously at the hunter, wondering if his human will feel the same sense of completion when it comes around. Then he focuses on the presences behind him, the wolf switching between wondering about their intentions and it's own shock at allowing such an intimate act as a mate claim upon them. The father though, it can see the way the wolf looks at him, surprised by the uncharacteristic show of longing on the wolf's face, accepting finally that its son's choice of mates is without emotional and physical risk to himself. 

The father's thoughts are quiet on the drive back to its home, a peaceful background as he affectionately wraps himself around the wolf that's accepted his bite, curling his blunt fingernails against the satisfaction in its chest as it returns his scenting with its face in his ruff. He has ahold of the hunter's arm holding its body against his back, the feel of its heat joining with their own, the hunter turns its mind away from them but its thoughts are without protest for now. 

When they get back to the house and focus on the research the hunter did he gets bored quickly. Feeling their intense interest in the papers, alternating from fascinated to wary, he decides not to interrupt, instead going to the fridge for a small snack. The men are unaware that the unworthy pack is getting their fear and worry risen across town by the same information being shared by the fire haired witness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we come back to the POV of the group after they got back to the Stilinski house and started reading the bestiary. There's some more research findings in this chapter but I promise this is the last of it. I can't wait to get the next chapter finished, its so good!
> 
> Btw, the research in this story is all real, I've just picked and chose what works best with the story.  
> Lonerwolf.com is a real website.

The Jaguar listens as they discuss the bestiary entry. The beginning about berserkers has Chris cursing and informing Peter about the voicemail left for him. Chris explains that berserkers are highly dangerous creatures mainly known for relying purely on their animal instincts. The transformation burns away the human spirit causing them to lose their ability to think like a human. They are very destructive creatures who kill for the sake of killing and have highly developed survival instincts. If a Berserker is connected to a Werejaguar, they become incredibly loyal to them, acting as their subordinates and following any command they are given.

The jaguar thinks, only alphas unworthy of their power are transformed into The Servants(berserkers). It's why he hates the pack's alpha so much, the boy's weakness oozes destructively out of him and that makes him much more dangerous than potentially constructive. It's the Jaguar's duty to repurpose unworthy alphas, to change them into something new and pure. Creation through destruction at its most visceral. 

The side note to other hunters about pursuing werepanthers has all three of the men looking at each other. Stiles is much more powerful than an alpha werewolf, as they've witnessed already. Even hunters know better than to take one on without reservation and thorough planning. 

_'Drawn to other solitary people'_ , that explains a bit about why Stiles likes Peter and Chris, they both have always been on the fringes of the pack. The jaguar thinks one of the other reasons he chose them is because they've both lost the majority of their family, shrouded in their deaths yet to have survived and become even stronger for it. 

_'Panther's magic will increasingly be experienced... greatest mysticism of all the animals'_. They all wonder if maybe Stiles is already doing magic without them being aware of it, subconsciously maybe. Peter wonders if the fact that magic is involved explains why the translation of the word nagual is witch, there aren't many shifters out there that can competently practice magic. 

Chris and Peter swear and tsk when they get to the part about the jaguar being unrivalled among animals. The sheriff asks, "Isn't that a good thing?" Peter says, "the pack is going to read that part and predictably get their panties in a twist because of it. Now we're going to have to deal with their complaining." 

Chris reads aloud, "Associated with conflict, war captives, and human sacrifice. Well, that just describes the situation in the preserve and the basement to a T, doesn't it." The sheriff gives him a confused look so the hunter elaborates, "Stiles sacrificed himself by attempting to kill the alphas and we were technically at war with them when Stiles was taken captive." 

_'In touch with sexual, sensual self'_ , maybe that explains why Stiles is so touchy feely with Chris and Peter. They look at the young man, sitting between the two on the couch, licking over Peter's neck and behind his ear. His face against the wolf's skin as the tip of his tongue laps out at the rate of a heartbeat, cleaning the taste off every inch of flesh. 

_'Black Panther is the god of darkness' _, that has Peter and Chris's eyebrows raising in intrigue. There are no wolf gods in mythology, only beasts, but panthers and jaguars are very spiritual animals.__

__The part about rebirth then has Peter and Chris looking at each other, not wanting to inform the sheriff that Stiles could possibly have died after he was bitten in the woods. There was enough of his blood on the ground for a mortal wound, the bestiary certainly makes it sound possible the bite revived him._ _

___'A Black Panther’s stare is intense. You cannot avoid its piercing awareness. This Spirit strips away all facades and understands others down to a cellular level... Able to look into the darkest parts of men's hearts.'_ They look at Stiles and think that the jaguar's eyes always seem to look directly into their heads, understanding more than he ever let's on. _ _

___'The Black Panther’s medicine includes the same as jaguar but in addition is keeper of the circular time continuum'_. Peter comments, "The native Americans believed time to be circular. To them it basically meant that there is no schedule for events to occur, instead that they should happen naturally, and often more thoroughly as a result. It's often referred to as living on Navajo time." _ _

__The sheriff likes the part about the panther spirit coming to those that need protection and watching over those with great courage, perhaps it helped his son through the worst events of his life, John hopes so._ _

__The mention of the aztec calendar has the sheriff informing the others that Stiles' birthday is January first, the beginning of the new year._ Those with this spirit animal should trust their thoughts and inner visions as they are based in reality_, this could explain Stiles' unexplainable sense of intuition about things before he was bitten. 

_'Panther has over 500 voluntary muscles that they can use at will. An ability to do a variety of tasks as he or she wills'_ , and Stiles has always been the master of multitasking. _It is simply a matter of deciding and putting to use those particular “muscles” – be they physical, mental, psychic, or spiritual. Latent psychic sight may be stirred in those with this power animal_. All three wonder about that one, what exactly constitutes psychic sight in this context? It's starting to sound like many things from what they're reading. 

_The most powerful form of communication available to humans is complete silence_ , and Stiles doesn't speak anymore. The sheriff wonders about the period of suffering Stiles must've endured in order to make his normally extremely vocal son so silent. 

The part about traumatic events in childhood makes John think about his wife, how she used to hurl accusations at their son and even attacked him several times, how Stiles was with her when she died and he wasn't. 

\- 

Lydia surprises them by coming over, telling them the pack read the bestiary entry and then later she looked up Soul Work since it's stated twice in the bestiary. Says it was mentioned in a magazine she read once and it made her curious. She tells them about a website she found, revealing that's what she came over to show them. She says while she was reading she noticed there were a lot of crossover of words in the bestiary. She types in Lonerwolf.com and the three men read silently. _Soulwork is the path of reuniting you with your True Nature again, when you do you experience what awakened beings through the ages refer to as Nirvana and mature spiritually as well._

_In order to discover the truth of who we are, we must set out on the path of the lone wolf, or spiritual seeker. While this path can be supported and nourished by others, it is ultimately a solitary path that demands courage, persistence, and the willingness to dig deep. Soulwork is about descending into the core of our beings, removing inner blockages, and undertaking the courageous task of healing, forgiving, understanding, empowering, and loving ourselves. Soulwork is about meeting and making peace with all that we have rejected within ourselves. It is about acknowledging and exploring the damaged parts of our psyche._

_Our work is based on the shamanic belief that there are three planes of existence: the Upperworld, the Middleworld, and the Underworld. The Middleworld, or the physical plane and its materialistic and egocentric pursuits. The Upperworld, or realm of Spirit, emphasizes the importance of attaining enlightenment but forgets the importance of cultivating a connection with our Souls. And in order to ascend, we must first descend._

_As we make our way through the winding and often perilous paths of our inner Underworlds, Soulwork encompasses many sacred crafts and techniques. These sacred practices include, for example: shadow work, dreamwork, uncovering your unique soul gifts, connecting with your spirit guides, self-love and acceptance, self-awareness and self-discovery, Shamanic journeying, Self-inquiry, examining and changing negative beliefs, core wound and core belief discovery._

Of that list Lydia clicks on ShadowWork. _As author and psychotherapist Steve Wolf noted: 'Beneath the social mask we wear every day, we have a hidden shadow side: an impulsive, wounded, sad, or isolated part that we generally try to ignore. Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.”'_  Peter thinks about the time Stiles rejected his offer of the bite, when Peter said Stiles would be like us, Stiles' exact response was, "Like you." How Stiles lied when he said, "I don't want to be like you." He wonders if it means Stiles was admitting unconsciously that he was more alike to Peter than Scott. 

_This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness. Shadow work involves accepting your shadow selves 100%. In Jung’s own words: 'Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.'_

_Your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable and “civilized” in the eyes of others. Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves._

_...Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history._

_Your Shadow side is formed in childhood. As authors and Jungian therapists Steve Price and David Haynes write: 'But, as we develop our conscious personality [through childhood], we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming an invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it._

_...Jung once stated that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” meaning the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes._

_...The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence._

_Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. When you reject the Shadow it can cause intense anxiety, lies and self-deceit, uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger, emotional and mental manipulation of others, depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies), sexual perversion, narcissistically inflated ego, chaotic relationships with others, self-loathing, and self-sabotage._

_One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection. Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves._ The sheriff wonders if Stiles projected himself onto Scott, if that's why he couldn't see his best friend's flaws for so long. 

_For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears. Remember that what you internalize is almost always externalized in one form or another._

_Essentially, this practice of Shadowwork is about finding out what you've given power to in your life unconsciously, because: what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us. The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves. Whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely._

At the top of a list of Shadow archetypes is The Trickster, Lydia says she remembered what the bestiary said about the literal translation of the word nagual, transforming trickster. _Trickster is at one and the same time creator and destroyer, giver and negator. He knows neither good nor evil yet he is responsible for both. He possesses no values, moral or social, is at the mercy of his passions and appetites, yet through his actions all values come into being.'  ~ Paul Radin_

 _Tricksters are represented as the jokers, pranksters, the class clowns, rule-breakers, anarchists, comedians, magicians, truth-tellers and wise-fools, and the rule-breaking harlequins that defy all worldly decrees and decorum._ John thinks of Stiles who has always been so sarcastic, then about the time his son taunted Coach, his economics teacher, with a paper about the entire history of circumcision. Because of the penis focus the sheriff wonders now if maybe Stiles actually was trying to come out as gay when they talked outside Jungle, if maybe Stiles was overcompensating by being so obsessed with Lydia for so long. He looks at his son nuzzling between two dangerous and attractive older men, Stiles certainly doesn't seem interested in the redhead now. 

_Trickster archetypes expose illusions, challenge worldly rules, and celebrate holy madness. For every likable trait within them, there is an equally disturbing trait. For every form of provocation, there is a hidden lesson. The Trickster, through his antics, lays out our faults on a platter with a smile._

_Tricksters are both man and anthropomorphized animal, half-man half-beast, worldly and spiritual, god and goddess. The trickster animals are primarily the coyote, rabbit(Bre'r), fox, and the raven. They bring with them the gifts of illumination, playfulness, revelation, truth and balance._

There's another archetype that John tells Lydia to click on. The Shadow Mother. It scares John how familiar what they describe is. _Our relationships with our mothers may have been laced with undercurrents of shame, guilt and obligation. In fact, we may continue to carry unresolved grief, fear, disappointment and resentment towards our mothers long into our adult lives. This deep pain is usually the result of unhealed core wounds._

 _If you suffer from the Mother Wound you will experience the following problems: sabotaging yourself when you experience happiness or success, possessing weak boundaries and an inability to say “no”, self-blaming and low self-esteem that manifests itself as the core belief: “There is something wrong with me”, co-dependency in relationships, minimizing yourself to be likable and accepted, the inability to speak up authentically and express your emotions fully, sacrificing your dreams and desires for other people unnecessarily. Mother Wounds are developed at a young age and are bound by the belief that “I was responsible for my mother’s pain,” and “I can make my mother happy if I’m a good girl/boy.” In order to overcome this you need to find your inner source of unconditional love._

Lydia clicks back out of archetypes to continue reading about shadowwork, _When exploring the shadow it often appears in a cave, dark forest, or hole in the ground where you would have an Inner conversation with your shadow. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness._

They reach the end and Lydia turns her laptop back around and explains that in the bestiary it says, "'There is a widespread superstition that in order to become a nagual you have to do a pact with the devil and offer him something very special in return.' I researched what they meant by this and apparently that bit of lore is due to victim accounts of communication with a spirit when they were unconscious after they were bitten. 

Lydia talks about the definition of mysticism. Mysticism is the practice of religious ecstasies, or religious experiences during alternate states of consciousness. It may also refer to the attainment of insight in ultimate or hidden truths, and to human transformation. In modern times though it has acquired a limited definition, with broad applications aiming at the union with the Absolute, the Infinite, or God. 

And then there's the mention of the unknowable, and that has a very interesting definition." She clicks on something on her screen and turns it back around for them to see. _The Unknowable. In the lives of the people around us, there is much that happens that we cannot know because we are not privy to their internal process of Knowing. Knowing is an inner, individual process which illuminates our darker corners. Knowing is ever evolving as we live our lives within what we know, do not know, and are yet unable to know._

 _In this sense The Unknowable is that which dances just beyond our field of perception. The unknowable can go unnoticed easily as we go about the day-in and day-out of our lives. Because of this the unknowable is also that which beckons, unrecognized, as the motivator of action, of thought, and of feeling. Sometimes we mistake the unknowable as the dangerous and the chaotic because the unknowable can feel like the waters we dare never enter._

Peter interrupts when Lydia starts to speak, "So the unknowable is basically _everything_ the universe sees but we don't because of our individual limits of reality?" She closes her lips and nods. They all look at the jaguar, the gatekeeper to the unknowable, and wonder.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, more like a post-chapter really, but I just couldn't wait to share it.
> 
> Just for clarification purposes, Stiles is not omnipotent now, he still has vulnerablilities. I tried to show that by the jaguar being hesitant to get in the pool at first, not because he could sense anything wrong with the water, but because he didn't trust John's motives.

That night in Stiles' room, after Lydia's left and they all retired feeling a little green over everything they just read, Chris is laying on his back on the bed next to Peter while they take off their shirts. Stiles' eyes dilate at the rush of scent released by the movement and his attention focuses in on Peter. He climbs over them and starts mouthing over the werewolf's shoulders, then he moves down to press his tongue against Peter's nipple, huffing out breath and moaning in his chest just like the animal, holding Peter's shoulders back as he switches to the other one and seals his open mouth over it, his hidden tongue swirling clumsily.

After a moment Stiles lets Peter go and his hands grip around the werewolf's ribs before dragging his blunt teeth down the firm stomach, Peter hissing slightly. Stiles continues moving further than they expect when he pushes his face firmly against the front of Peter's pants and inhales slowly and deeply through his nose, the wolfs lips parting slowly at the sound. 

Chris watches the whole thing, unable to hold back the second hand arousal that comes from seeing these two men with each other, their bodies hot along his side. Stiles eyes go to Chris, like he could hear the hunter's thoughts and his thumbs rub once along Peters ribs, bending the skin a little, before he pulls off the wolf and nudges Chris's arm up with his shaggy head underneath. Stiles sniffs over the man's chest, pressing his face to the center and inhaling with the same attention as smelling the other man's crotch, then, almost sleepily, turns his face away and drags his tongue up the skin beside the hunter's armpit. Stiles eyes are closed as his head butts the Argent's to the side and inhales greedily at his throat, laying on top of Chris and keeping their bodies touching. When Stiles pulls away he looks content and heavy lidded, sliding to the hunter's other side while they all get in position to sleep. 

\- 

[](https://postimages.org/)

The sun is up when Chris opens his eyes to Stiles sitting up on the edge of the bed, facing away, Peter still asleep by the wall. Chris's hand finds Stiles' lower back and he knows he should find it strange that Stiles doesn't flinch but when the kid turns his head and smiles affectionately at him with a quiet "hey" while turning more towards him, Chris is shocked, "Stiles?" "Yeah," Stiles says like everything is normal as he turns around then straddles the hunter's waist and puts his palms flat on the man's chest. Chris looks up at him, not sure what's going on, Stiles sees and smiles comfortingly before he leans down and places a chaste kiss on Chris's lips, the older man jerks at the contact but doesn't pull away. 

Stiles sits back, Chris says softly, like if he raises his voice he might break the spell of whatever this peace is, "Tell me what happened to you." Stiles looks at the wall above Chris's head, his gaze going far away, his voice heavy, blinking slowly, "Screams... blood... more screaming." The younger looks back at him, leans down and presses their lips together again. Chris shakes his head away from the contact, brows pinched, frustrated and trying to get some answers, "Why are you doing this? You need to tell us-" Stiles shushes him soothingly, finger going to his own lips, "Shh. Shh, Chris." His hand lowers back down, and he leans forward just a little like he's imparting a secret, "Don't worry, this is just a dream." Chris's eyebrows pull together in confusion, "What do you mean, a dream? How is that possible?" 

Stiles sits back, looks at Peter and smiles fondly, "My two pillars." He lays a hand on Peter's chest, the wolf inhales slowly in his sleep making his chest rise like he's unconsciously seeking the touch, "One ferocious." His gaze turns back to Chris then Stiles moves his other hand to the center of the hunter's bare chest, "The other compassionate. Neither afraid of pain." Chris's face softens but he's still confused, he doesn't know what makes him ask, "Why are you hiding, Stiles?" The younger man leans down slowly and places soft kisses on Chris's lips, their skin making quiet wet sounds between each join, both their eyes open until Chris slightly kisses back half way through the third, the next kiss has their lips pressing more firmly for a heavy breathed moment before Stiles pulls away and sits up. After a pause where he looks away from Chris and around the room, he says sadly, "There's too much light here." 

\- 

Peter walks through the pitch black darkness, his hand on the Jaguar's shoulder at his side. He doesn't know what's happening, maybe his eyes are closed, he can't see anything. But for some reason he knows the cat isn't going to leave him here alone. There's no sound, no footsteps, Peter can't even hear his own breathe or heartbeat. The only anchor he has in this blind and deaf place is the roll of the Jaguar's bones under its fur. He grasps the short hair tighter between his fingers, worried the cat will pull away and abandon him in the yawning emptiness. 

Suddenly, on his other side, long elegant fingers twine through his, holding his hand like a lover as they continue to walk. Peter's not completely sure why but he knows it's Stiles, Peter's held those long lovely fingers close to his mouth once, and the werewolf is suddenly certain that he won't get left behind. They come to a stop, Peter's grip tightening, then Stiles' other hand wraps gently around his wrist as soft lips touch his stubbled cheek. The Jaguar's solid warmth presses heavy against his hip, both the young man and the animal comforting in this gaping blackness. 

Those lips kiss feather light along his skin to his ear, breathing hotly onto the skin even though Peter can't hear the rasp of it like he normally would. The fingers caress slowly up his wrist to his forearm, squeezing around it slightly before he hears Stiles whisper, "Do you hear it?" The lips leave and Peter mourns their loss as he tunes his ears, searching for what Stiles is talking about. But there's nothing, just the echoing silence, buzzing in his ears like when someone turns off their too loud stereo. Peter strains his hearing further, but all there is is that same incessant buzzing. 

\- 

Both Chris and Peter gasp awake loudly at the same time, sitting up in tandem and rubbing at their chests, looking at each other. They look up at the shifted Panther across their legs, its tail twitching up into the air as it stares calmly back at them.


End file.
